The Crownless Again is King
by Caledor54
Summary: ONE SHOT. Hobbit AU where Kili, Fili and Thorin survive the Battle of the Five Armies and live to rebuild Erebor with the rest of the Company. Mainly based around the movies. A quick feel-good fic from me, Merry Christmas!


The Crownless Again is King

**A/N:**** so, this is a little excursion on my part, inspired mainly by my sister's dramatic weeping all the way through The Battle of the Five Armies; literally, she didn't stop from start to finish. I will make it clear now; there are spoilers in here for The Hobbit: The Battle of the Five Armies. This fic is also my own ideas on what would happen in the film-verse if Kilí, Filí and Thorin survived the battle, so if you don't like the idea of them surviving, probably best not to read this. Now that's done, I guess I can wish you all a very merry Christmas from me and I hope you all have a splendid New Year. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own the hobbit or any of the characters involved in it. **

As Bilbo came to, he was firstly startled to find that he was still alive. He checked himself, insuring that he had all his limbs and that his head was still attached to his body, then tried sitting up. A wave of nausea rolled through him and his head throbbed painfully.

"Oh, nope nope no maybe not then," he muttered, slowly lowering himself back onto the ground. It was at that moment that he realised it was terribly cold. He shivered and rubbed his arms to try and stimulate some heat in his aching muscles. Where was Gandalf when he needed him? Probably still dealing with the orcs in Dale, his subconscious answered. Bilbo's half shut eyes flew open in horror. The battle! Thorin, where was Thorin? And Filí, Kilí and Dwalin? Bilbo wracked his brains, trying to remember what had happened before he had been knocked out.

The second army, that was it! He had come to Ravenhill to warn the dwarves about the second army attacking from the north. He had arrived just as Thorin and Dwalin had finished off a huge group of goblins. His head throbbed again, but Bilbo concentrated hard. What had happened next? He lay there thinking for many long moments, his memories a misted pool of scenes floating in disjointed rivers of thought and emotion.

"Filí..." he mumbled, as the image of the young dwarf hanging high above the ground in the clutched of Azog came into focus. What had happened to Filí? He knew something had happened, because Filí couldn't be dead, he simply couldn't.

"_Crawk!_"

Bilbo started, jarred from his thinking by the sharp sound. A raven had landed above him and now looked down at the hobbit with quizzical eyes. "_Crawk!"_ It crowed again, then took flight back towards the battlefield. The raven, although Bilbo could not have known it at the time, had been looking for him, and was now heading back to its master, having achieved its task. For Bilbo, the raven only served to jog his bruised memory, for now he remembered what had happened to Filí.

As Azog had gone in for the kill on the young dwarf, an unkindness of ravens had attacked the pale orc, pecking mercilessly at his eyes and fingers. Azog had instinctively let go of Filí, so surprised was he by the attack of the ravens. The young dwarf had fallen to the second level of the towers, landed heavily, then rolled off and fell into his brother's waiting arms. Thorin and Dwalin had rushed to beardlings' aid, Bilbo only a few seconds behind them, but that was when Bolg had struck. The son of Azog and his scouts entered the battle and charged towards Bilbo. It was only the timely intervention of Dwalin that had saved Bilbo's life. After that, Bilbo's memory went hazy again. He remembered fighting with Dwalin against the orcs, then a club had struck him and he had known no more.

"I need to find them..." he whispered to himself. Steeling himself, Bilbo made himself ready for another attempt at sitting. Breathing heavily, and with his arms braced against the ground, he forced his protesting muscles into a sitting position. Again his head throbbed painfully, but the nausea was not as bad as the last time. However, the lofty heights of standing were still far beyond him. He felt exhausted after just sitting up, he did not want to try standing until he was fully recovered. He looked up and around him as he caught his breath and saw, lying on the ground nearby, his sword, Sting. He blinked at it, almost surprised to see that it wasn't glowing blue. He smiled at the familiar sight. Then his eyes moved to something else that lay in the snow; a golden ring, glistening in the light of the dying sun.

Bilbo sat there for what felt like an eternity, fighting the pulling sensation that the ring inflicted on him. He couldn't leave it there for someone else to pick up. It was his, his alone and he would suffer no other to touch it. He lunged to his feat, stumbled and fell, closing his fingers over the small band of gold as he did so. He rolled onto his back and held the ring up to the sun, admiring the way it caught the light, yet feeling disturbed inside that he had gone to such lengths to claim the ring. He slipped it into his pocket once more, then slowly began to raise himself to his knees. His hand found the handle of Sting, and he used the elven sword to support his weight as he stood properly. He wobbled slightly, but soon his balance returned to him and he managed a few faltering steps before he had to sit down again, the pain in his head almost too much to bear.

He could have fallen asleep there if the raven had not returned to him, cawing loudly. Bilbo looked up at it once more, then out at the battlefield. It was then that he noticed the silence. He could hear no battle cries or the screams of wounded and dying. There were no bellows of trolls or the sounds of harsh war-trumpets. All was still, save for the raven, which hopped from foot to foot and cawed excitedly. A clacking sound, like hooves on stone, made Bilbo turn from the battlefield. The hoof noises were growing louder, and there was more than one of them. Some part of him made his reach for the ring, to slip away and hide from the hooves, yet he stayed where he was, hands in his pockets as the riders drew close.

"Bilbo! You're alive!" Bofur bellowed, diving from his ram and running to embrace the hobbit. Dwalin and Gloin were with him and both were grinning widely.

"Good to see you again, master Baggins," said Dwalin as Bofur supported Bilbo over to the rams and hoisted him in front of the battle-scarred warrior. "I had feared you had been taken by the orcs, yet you have evaded danger once more. Come, Thorin wants to see you. He's gravely injured and is unlikely to live, but he wishes to make amends with you." Dwalin's voice was laced with sadness and Bilbo felt his heart go numb. Thorin, dying? No, it simply wasn't possible, it couldn't happen. Thorin had survived too much only to die now.

"What happened, Dwalin?" asked Bilbo as the four of them clattered down the side of Ravenhill at speeds that could not have been achieved by any other land-bound animal. The rams bounded from ledge to ledge, as surefooted and fearless as the dwarves that rode them.

"We won the battle. The eagles arrived with Beorn, destroying Bolg's host and scattering what remained of Azog's army back into the mountains. Thorin fought Azog and killed the beast, but suffered a deep wound to the chest during the fight. We found him bleeding to death and the eagles carried him down to Dale so the healers could see to him. Kilí and Filí were also wounded, defending Thorin from Bolg and his mercenaries, but they are both likely to recover, thanks to the intervention of the she-elf and the princeling. They fought like demons; killing Bolg and helping the rest of us keep the other orcs away from Thorin," said Dwalin.

"As for the battle as a whole, we dwarves have taken the brunt of the losses. Dain has lost well over two thirds of his force; the company is unharmed save for Thorin, Kilí and Filí. The elves have lost a fair few themselves, but not as many as us. The men of Lake-town are vastly reduced in number as well; the old and weak outnumber the men of fighting age," interjected Gloin.

"It was a costly battle Bilbo, but it seems as though it was worth it. Erebor has been reclaimed, and the treasure owed has been distributed. Peace has come once more and in its wake, hopefully, prosperity," finished Bofur as they cantered across down the last few hillocks and galloped across the bridge into Dale.

The city had not fared well during the battle. Many buildings had been damaged or destroyed by the orc siege weapons, or by marauding trolls. The orcs had also put many of the building to flame, and isolated fires still burned in parts of Dale. Groups of men and elves stood watch on the surviving walls and towers while a few dwarf sentries walked the streets in pairs to keep order. They saluted smartly and moved aside for the ram-riders to pass. Dwalin led them all the way up to the great hall, where the wounded of the battle had been brought. The dwarves dismounted as soon as their steeds stopped moving and strode purposefully through the crowds with Bilbo hurrying behind.

Inside the great hall, the wounded lay in rows upon rows, coughing and moaning. Some cried for water, others for friends or family. Some lay still and silent, their eyes glazed over and their faces at peace: there was no time to move the dead while the living still needed tending. Elven and dwarven healers moved amongst the soldiers and civilians, administering medicine where they could, kind words where they couldn't. A portion of the hall had been screened from view using faded banners and strips of canvas and it was to this makeshift tent that the dwarves hurried with the hobbit in tow.

Six guards stood at the entrance, dwarves in burnished steel hauberks and rings of mail. They had shields upon their arms and helms upon their heads. Each one had scratches, rents and dents covering their armour, and it was clear that Dain had picked the best fighters left to him to guard his king. They saluted, then moved aside as the four members of Thorin's Company entered.

Inside the tent was a confusing scene. In the centre of the room, Thorin lay bare-chested on a cot, bandages wrapped around his muscled chest while his lower half was covered in furs. The Company stood around his bed, with Balin on his right hand side and Dain on his left. Bilbo also spotted Gandalf towards the back of the room, who caught his eye and smiled ever so slightly, but he couldn't see Filí or Kilí in the huddle around the bed. He could, however, see Thranduil, the elven king, kneeling at Thorin's side. He had his hand on the dwarf's bandages and was whispering softly in his melodic voice.

Thorin's eyes were closed and his breathing was shallow. His skin was pale and crusted with dried blood. It was all Bilbo could do not to whimper at the sight. Slowly, the four newcomers stepped up to the bottom of the bed. Balin looked up as they approached, then leaned down to speak to Thorin, although the dwarven king didn't stir. They stood there for many long minutes and Thranduil whispered his spell. Finally, the elf king stood and despite his immortal blood, he looked aged.

"It is done. He will live. You dwarves are remarkably hard to kill," said Thranduil as he rose to his full height.

"The line of Durin is not so easily broken," rumbled Dain.

"Thank you, King Thranduil," said Balin, bowing his head to the elf. Thranduil inclined his own countenance, then swept from the tent.

Thorin stirred on the bed and all the dwarves clustered closer around him. His eyes blinked a few times before they opened fully. "Bilbo," he whispered, "where is he? I must... speak with Bilbo." His breaths were laboured and his words were weak.

"I'm here, Thorin. I've come to see you. The raven found me," spoke the Hobbit, moving through the crowd of dwarves up the Thorin's head. Balin stood aside and let Bilbo kneel close to Thorin.

"Bilbo... I... take back my words and deeds at the gate. You did only what a true friend would do... and I would wish to have that friendship... restored," Thorin spoke with care, his eyes never leaving Bilbo's. "Can you forgive me for leading you into such hardship and peril?"

"Of course, Thorin, of course! I am glad to have shared in your perils, every one of them. It is far more than any Baggins deserves."

"I am glad we are friends again," Thorin's broken lips twisted into a smile. He looked around at the dwarves surrounding his bedside and squinted. "Filí and Kilí, were are they? Where are my nephews?" he asked, his voice regaining some of its former strength.

"They're safe, Thorin; alive and recovering swiftly from their own wounds. The elves are tending to them now. You'll see them soon," said Balin from behind Bilbo.

"You gave us a right scare, you bugger," said Dain, his bearded face splitting into a mighty grin. Thorin smiled back weakly.

"Come now, all of you. Thorin needs to rest and recover, let us not crowd his bedside or keep him from rest with our chatter," said Balin, ushering most of the dwarves out of the tent and nodding to Dain, Bilbo and Gandalf before he too left.

"I think, for once, a rest is justified, Thorin. Get some sleep, cousin and I'll see you in the morning," said Dain. He gave Gandalf a look that said "leave him be", then turned to leave. He gave Bilbo a quizzical look as he passed, as if wondering what he was and why he was so important to Thorin.

"I am indeed weary, you will both forgive me if I... rest for a while," said Thorin, whose eyes were already sliding shut.

"Goodnight Thorin, we'll see you in the morning," said Bilbo as Gandalf led him outside.

Kilí woke suddenly. It was still light in the tent, for a fire burned outside to keep the guards warm. He looked around to search for the source of his awakening, and his eyes came to rest of the head of Tauriel, who lay asleep upon his arm. He smiled at her and gently lifted his other hand to her cheek. They had survived the battle, not even Thranduil could stop their love now. Kilí laid his hand upon one of hers as it lay outstretched on his chest, then put his head back onto the pillow and let himself drift back into the realms of sleep.

Tauriel had been working through the afternoon and night trying to save Kilí and his brother. The other elven healers had helped her, but they had all been needed elsewhere and had departed. Tauriel had stayed, however, for she had vowed to save Kilí and Filí from their wounds.

Legolas had come to see her, to tell her that he was leaving. Their conversation had been awkward, but she had wished him well on his journey and he had departed without saying a word about Kilí. Thranduil had also come to see her, to revoke his banishment of her and to ask her to return to his service. He had also healed the wounds that she had suffered during her fight with Bolg. Tauriel had looked down at Kilí's face and made her choice. She refused Thranduil, saying she had already found a new home, although she thanked him for his generosity. The elven king had seemed taken aback at this, but had accepted her decision far more readily than he had done on the battlefield mere hours before. Thus when the elven host departed from those lands two days hence, Tauriel would remain behind.

In the morning, the sun shed its rays upon three peoples united in loss, but also in victory. The men of Lake-town had been busy through the night constructing a funeral pyre for their dead fellows. The elves had loaded the bodies of their fallen comrades into wagons for transportation back to the forest, where they would be buried. The dwarves had carried their dead inside the mountain and down into the catacombs, guided by Balin who still remembered the layout of the various hall. There the dwarves had been encased in stone tombs, their names and titles etched on the rock for all to see. Only the orcs had not received such ritualistic treatment. They had been heaped together in piles and burnt, without care or consideration. The fires burned all through the night and the following day, filling the air with the scent of roasting flesh and boiling blood.

Filí awoke early. He sat up, despite his aching bones, and looked around the tent for Kilí and Thorin, or any of the other dwarves. When he saw Kilí lying across from him and Tauriel sleeping on his side, his gut twisted. He was happy to see Kilí alive and well, but was still unsure of what to think of his love for the she-elf. Elves and dwarves had never been close allies; always wary of each other, yet Tauriel had come all this way, defending them in Lake-town and healing Kilí of his wound, then fighting alongside them against Bolg and his scouts to protect Thorin. Filí looked again at his brother, saw the smile that rested on his sleeping face and made up his mind. Tauriel deserved his trust and he would stand by his brother, no matter how odd it may seem at first to have an elf along them. Her lack of facial hair would definitely give Dis a turn. Filí groaned. He had forgotten about their mother. How would she react to Kilí falling in love with an elf?

Filí probed the sites where he had been wounded by Bolg the day before and was surprised to find the cuts completely healed over. They were still tender to touch and purple bruises covered his body like tattoos, but he knew that they would fade in time. He knew this must have been elven magic, for no dwarven healers had such power. He looked again at Tauriel and whispered a quick thank you to the sleeping she-elf. Filí rose from his bed and, with delicate steps on aching legs, made his way out of the tent to search for Thorin and the rest of the Company. He asked one of the men of Lake-town where he could find his uncle, and they pointed him to another makeshift tent, larger than the one that he and Kilí had been laid in. Filí walked to the tent as quickly as his legs could carry him, saluted with effort to the dwarven guards and passed into Thorin's tent.

His uncle looked in a sorry state, but was awake and sitting up against his pillows talking to Bilbo. He looked up when Filí entered and his face filled with relief.

"Filí, it is good to see you alive and well. I was so worried, I feared you had both been killed," he gestured for Filí to approach and the young dwarf prince came to his uncle's side and hugged him.

"It is good to see you alive as well, Thorin. Everything we have striven for has come to pass. We have reclaimed the mountain, slain the dragon and rid ourselves of the orcish filth," Filí said, his eyes bright.

"Yes, Erebor is ours again... Where is Kilí? Where's your brother?" asked Thorin, his eyes suddenly worried.

"He's still resting, I didn't want to disturb him," said Filí, wandering how he was going to tell Thorin that Kilí was in love with an elf.

"I see. Well, if he is not well enough to come to me, I shall go to him. Help me Bilbo, and you Filí, I will need your support to get me out of this bed," said Thorin through gritted teeth as he tried to raise his body and swing his legs over the side of the bed, but Bilbo grabbed his shoulders and Filí gently pushed him back into the bed.

"Now now, Thorin, don't be hasty! Your wound is still healing and you need to recover. Your no good to your people if you kill yourself through overexertion because you haven't rested long enough," said Bilbo, desperately pulling Thorin back into his bed.

"Thorin, rest. Kilí will as soon as he is awake. I'll go and see if he has woken. Just, wait there and I'll fetch him," said Filí, helping his uncle back into a comfortable position, despite a large amount of grumbling on Thorin's part. The king did, however, consent to wait for his nephew and as Filí limped out of the tent, he heard Thorin turn to Bilbo and say very quietly, "They are everything to me, Bilbo. Everything I did, I did it for them... Their mother is going to kill me."

Filí walked back through the ranks of wounded soldiers, the dead having been moved for burning, until he reached his and his brothers tent. He heard laughter coming from inside and slowed his pace. Carefully, he poked his head around the tent flap.

Tauriel and Kilí were awake; Kilí sat up in bed and Tauriel sitting on a stool to his side. Even sitting, she was still much taller than him. They laughed at some joke that Filí had missed, then a silence descended between them. Kilí looked into the she-elf's eyes with such tender care that it almost moved Filí to tears. Ever had Kilí been the more flirtatious of the two brothers, but never before had Filí seen true love for anyone other than his brother or his mother in Kilí's eyes. For her part, Tauriel looked completely changed from the grim elven sentinel that they had met in Mirkwood. He face glowed softly and her smile could have lit up all the halls of Erebor. They laughed again, and Filí noticed that they were holding hands. Tauriel let go of Kilí and for a second Filí though he had been spotted, but instead the elf put her hand into her jerkin and drew out a small object. She held it up to the light and Filí caught his breath. It was Kilí's oathstone, the one that their mother had given him to ward off evil and to bring good luck.

"This belongs to you," she said, placing the stone in Kilí's hand. "You have kept your promise."

"Not yet," said Kilí, and he took Tauriel's hand and placed the stone back into her palm. "Keep it as a promise, and as a gift. Tauriel, I know my uncle will be stubborn, but I'm not afraid. I know that I love you, and I know you love me too, so I'd like to ask you to marry me, when time allows, so that I may spend the rest of my waking days beside you, and walk with you among the stars of that other world you have seen."

Tauriel held Kilí's hands for a moment longer, then took the stone and placed it in her jerkin, next to her heart. "There is no force in Middle-Earth that could prevent me from accepting, Kilí. You have my heart, now and forever."

Filí coughed awkwardly. The pair swung around, eyes widening as Filí stepped into the tent properly. "So... you're feeling better then?" he asked with a smirk at his brother.

"Ughhh... yeah, yeah much better thank you... Why do you ask?" said Kilí, his hand shooting behind his head to scratch his hair in fake disinterest. Tauriel had her eyes looking pointed at the floor, but her lips were tight against her mouth, trying to restrain her laughter.

"Oh, no reason, just wanted to know my baby brother was alright, you know, after we were fighting in a BATTLE yesterday and everything..." Filí said, moving closer to his brother's bed.

"Oh... OH yeah, yeah the battle... yeah... Yeah I'm fine now, and you're looking well... What?" asked Kilí, as Filí's face had taken on a slightly accusatory look.

"Is there... I don't know, anything you want to tell me, Kilí?" he asked, barely keeping his composure. Tauriel was cracking, but Kilí was still oblivious.

"Errr no..? No, nothing I can think of, Filí... Why do you ask?" said Kilí, his eyes darting to Tauriel. He did a double take at Tauriel's shaking form, then realised the joke being played on him. "You complete... argh!" Kilí lunged for his brother as Tauriel burst out laughing, swiftly joined by Filí as he jumped back away from Kilí's clumsy grab.

"Your face! You should have seen your face! You looked like Thorin had caught you eating the cakes again!" laughed Filí through his beard. Kilí pouted, but a grin spread its way up his chin and soon he was laughing as well.

When they had all calmed down somewhat, Filí moved closer to his brother and patted him on the shoulder. Filí looked between Tauriel and Kilí, then spoke. "I just want you both to know, you have my support. Tauriel, you've made Kilí happier than I have seen him in a long time and I would want that to continue. Kilí, although she doesn't have facial hair, I'm glad you're happy. I wish you both good fortune." He smiled and bowed his head a little.

"Thank you for your acceptance, Filí. It means a great deal to me. I have a feeling I will have to prove myself to the other dwarves, however, if I am to gain the same from them, especially your uncle," said Tauriel, bowing her head to Filí.

"Don't worry, Tauriel, Filí and I will talk to him. He'll come around," said Kilí, gripping her hand tightly.

"And I wouldn't worry about the others in the Company. They care about Kilí a lot and most will simply be happy to see him happy," chimed in Filí. Tauriel smiled gratefully. "That reminds me, Thorin wants to see you, Kilí... You had best come along Tauriel, we can get it over and done with while Bilbo is there... The hobbit always sees the right in any situation and I have a feeling Thorin trusts him more than anyone. Can you walk brother?" said Filí, gesturing to Kilí's arrow wound.

"Yeah, I think I can if you support me. Let's go see uncle Thorin..." said Kilí, his eyes looking worried, but determined.

Filí helped Kilí out of bed and together, the two dwarves hobbled out of the tent, Tauriel behind them, and made their way towards Thorin's quarters. When they entered, Thorin was still propped up against his pillows, but his blankets were in disarray and it looked like he had been making another bid for freedom, as Bilbo sat winded in his stool at the side of the king's bed.

"And look, here they are now! I told you they wouldn't be long, you have nothing to fear! Didn't I tell you, Thorin?" said Bilbo, gesticulating as the three entered the tent.

"Kilí, you're alright! Your brother said you were still sleeping and that you were well, but it pleases my heart to see you walking and smiling so," said Thorin, a smile breaking across his chapped lips.

"It is good to see you too, Thorin. I am glad you're alive. Are you wounded?" asked Kilí, moving to his uncle's side and pulling back the blankets to look at Thorin's side.

"It was worse, but the elf king healed me, or so Mr Baggins has told me. Elvish medicine is a wondrous thing," replied Thorin. He looked past his nephews and saw Tauriel standing just inside the doorway.

"You are the captain who imprisoned us in Mirkwood... Have you been tending to my nephews?" he asked, his voice low and level.

"Thorin, Tauriel healed Kilí of his wound in Lake-town. Without her, we all would have died in the fire, or to Bolg and his orcs who were hunting. Then, during the battle, she and the princeling helped us defeat Bolg and defend you from his scouts and now, yes, she has been tending to Kilí and me. She healed our wounds and saved our lives many times," said Filí, grabbing his uncle's hand.

"If that is the case, then I owe you a debt, Tauriel of Mirkwood, for you have saved my nephews where I was powerless to do so, and have kept my heart intact, for a life without them would be worthless, even with all the gold of Erebor. If there is any boon that is within my power to grant, then you may ask for it."

Tauriel smiled and bowed her head. "Thank you, Thorin, son of Thrain. If I ever have need of a favour, I shall remember you generosity."

"Now, we must declare a feast to celebrate our victory here! Bilbo, go and fetch Bard and Tauriel, would you do me the favour of bringing King Thranduil here so that I can invite them and their peoples into Erebor tonight for a feast?" said Thorin, his eyes shining with happiness.

"Of course Thorin, I'll go and find him now," said Bilbo, and made to leave. Tauriel nodded and was about to leave as well when Kilí stepped forward.

"Actually, before you both go, I would like to tell you something, uncle," said Kilí, looking Thorin straight in the face. Thorin was instantly on guard; Kilí never called him uncle unless he had either done something wrong or was looking for something.

"What is it, Kilí?" he asked, not unkindly, but with an element of hesitation in his voice.

"I... we... Tauriel and I wish to be married," he said, blurting out the words so quickly that Bilbo almost missed them.

Thorin's eyes blinked once, twice and thrice. "What?" he said, completely dumbfounded. He was sure he had just imagined what Kilí had said, but out of the corner of his eye he could see Bilbo's head swinging from dwarf to elf with such velocity that it seemed it would fall off.

"I want to marry Tauriel, and she wishes to marry me," Kilí said again, getting his nerves under control and talking slower this time.

"I support it, uncle," said Filí from behind his brother.

Thorin looked at Kilí, then swung his head slowly to look at Tauriel, then back to his nephew, then back to the she-elf. He couldn't believe it, it was just too shocking. He didn't know what to say. "I... err, I... I don't understand," he stammered finally. Thankfully, Bilbo chose this moment to come to his sense.

"Kilí, do you love Tauriel?" the hobbit asked.

"With all my heart," replied the dwarf, looking over at Tauriel, who smiled and blushed.

Bilbo then walked over to Tauriel. "My lady, do you love Kilí?"

"With all my heart," replied Tauriel, looking up at Kilí and smiling. Bilbo nodded, then walked back to Thorin.

"There you go," he said, as if he had just solved a very simple puzzle for a child, "They seem to be truly in love, and I can't think of why anyone should stand in the way of their union. In fact, I think it's a splendid match. For what it's worth, you have the blessing of a Baggins and you're welcome at Bag End at any time." Bilbo bowed and smiled at them both.

"But... how? Why? Kilí... she's an elf," Thorin was still struggling to come to terms with what he had been told. He felt like he should be angry, yet no rage would come. Another part of him felt like he should be happy for his nephew, yet shock still ruled his emotions and all he felt was numb.

"Thorin, I love her, and she loves me. Whether we are elves or dwarves or hobbits or men, love transcends the barriers around us and makes us feel alive. It brings our races together and breaks down the barrier of hatred. Please, uncle, I am asking you to open your heart and accept the love I feel for Tauriel," said Kilí, taking Thorin by the hand and kneeling in front of him.

Somewhere in Thorin's head, a nerve sparked. It travelled all the way down his chest to his heart, and from there, shot out to all the corners of his body. It made him shiver involuntarily, but it freed him from the shock of Kilí's declaration and allowed him to process what had been said to him. He brooded for many long minutes. Kilí looked on the verge of making another impassioned speech when Thorin looked up.

"Tauriel of Mirkwood, come here," he said, and his voice rang with all the authority of the King Under the Mountain. Tauriel approached and knelt at the foot of the bed. "Do you swear, by your honour and by your life, that you shall bring happiness to my nephew in his times of despair, to bring light to him when all around him is dark, and to cherish him for the person he is, from now until the end of days?"

Tauriel looked up at Thorin, then across at Kilí. "I do," she said, returning her eyes to Thorin's. Thorin looked up at his nephew.

"Kilí, do you swear, by you honour and your life, to bring happiness to this elf in her times of despair, to bring light to her when all around her is dark, and to cherish her for the person she is, from now until the end of days?" Thorin looked deep into his nephew's eyes and knew the answer before he uttered it.

"I do," said Kilí.

"Then I have no reason to oppose your marriage. While your mother will likely have my head, I feel that you two will bring great happiness to both our peoples. Your wedding will have to wait, however, until we have made Erebor safe and suitable for habitation again, and the rest of our people have come across from the Blue Mountains to their homeland. Now, back to that feast. Hurry Bilbo, find Bard. Tauriel, if you would be so kind as to find you king, I would be grateful."

Bilbo nodded and hurried out of the tent. Tauriel lingered for a moment, then bowed deeply to Thorin. "Thank you, King Thorin," she said, then she too left the tent.

Thorin leaned in and took Kilí by the shoulder. "Your mother is going to murder us," he said, chuckling, and the three of them laughed heavily.

That night, the survivors of the battle gathered in the great hall of Erebor, where once the golden statue of Thor had been and now had instead a golden floor. Tables were laid out with all the finery of the ancient dwarven kingdom and what food that could be found had been cooked by the finest elven and dwarven cooks amongst the armies. The men of Lake-town looked around them in wonder at the dwarven halls, which had been restored to light by hundred of torches placed around the chamber. Even the elves were impressed by the wealth of the dwarves, for Thorin had given orders that no expense should be spared and that all should share in the wealth of the mountain. To this end, every guest, commoner and noble, was given a gift when they entered and a second one when they left. To the fishermen of Lake-town, the dwarves gave first a selection of masterly crafted swords, daggers and knives, each one worth a prince's ransom. On their way out, the dwarves gifted the men each a pouch of golden coins, and a smaller pouch of precious gems with which they could rebuild their lives. To the women of Lake-town, the dwarves firstly gave jewellery boxes, each of which contained golden earrings, necklaces for rubies and rings with gleaming sapphires. On their way out, the dwarves gifted the women warm furs and blankets, along with a pouch of gold and a small bag of gems, just as they had with the men.

To their elvish guests, the dwarves firstly gifted them with circlets and crowns made of mithril and gold, studded with precious gems. Some received swords and bows wrought with dwarvish steel and each was a kingly gift, for it was Thorin's way of amending for not only his own miserly treatment of the elves, but his forebears' too. On their way out after the feast, each elf also received a small pouch of gold and a ring containing one of the White Gems. The elves treasured these gifts greatly and thanked the dwarves whole heartedly for their generosity.

To Dain's people, however, Thorin gave the most valuable of his gifts. Each dwarf was given a suit of Erebor-forced armour. They were also given their pick of the weaponry available to them, and were told they could fill a small chest full of gold and gems, and take it with them when they returned to the Iron Hills. This delighted the dwarves, and each one swore fealty to Thorin as King Under the Mountain that night, so generous were his gifts.

The feast was a raucous affair, with many toasts and boasts, along with a mighty drinking competition between the dwarves and elves (the men of Lake-town knew they were outmatched). On the high table, Thorin sat in the centre, Kilí to his left and Filí to his right. Next to Filí was Dwalin, then Oin, Gloin, Ori, Dori and Nori. Next to Kilí was Balin, then Bilbo, Gandalf, Bifur, Bofur and Bombur. Next to Nori sat Dain, Bard the Bowman and his son and two daughters. Next to Bombur sat Thranduil, with Tauriel, and Beorn. Many speeches were made by Thorin, thanking the men, the elves and the dwarves for all that they had given in reclaiming the mountain.

"I swear, by my honour as King Under the Mountain, that from this day onwards, all our people shall share in the wealth and prosperity of this kingdom. Let us forge together such an alliance of the northern kingdoms, that evil will never again think to challenge us! Let all the orcs of Middle Earth hear us; BARUK KHAZAD!" Thorin thundered, the ancient warcry of the dwarves booming forth.

"KHAZAD AI MENU!" bellowed back the dwarves, who raised their tankards in praise. The men and women of Lake-town raised their tankards too in a shout, and the elves too let their composure slip for a moment, so inspiring were the words of the dwarf-king. The feast and revelry lasted well into the night and all were merry to at last put down their weapons of war and look to a happy and prosperous future.

The next day, the elves made ready to depart, although some of them were holding their heads and groaning while they assembled, and it wasn't due to wounds sustained in battle. Thranduil stood at the head of his host, looking out across the battlefield, up at the Lonely Mountain and Dale, and sighed with content. He had achieved all of the goals he had set out from Mirkwood with, and had actually surpassed them. To think, he was now on good terms with the King Under the Mountain... perhaps it was time he re-evaluated his opinion of dwarves, especially with Tauriel's decision to stay behind in Erebor and marry the dwarling. He still did not understand the reasoning behind it, but her love for the dwarf and her determination to save him when he was wounded on the battlefield had awoken Thranduil's heart once more and he had given her his blessing, and even assented to attending the wedding to vouch for her, as was the dwarven custom.

Thranduil shook his head and mounted his horse as Gandalf, Beorn and the hobbit, Bilbo Baggins rode up to meet him, or in the case of Beorn, strode.

"Shall we be off?" asked Gandalf, gesturing onwards with his staff.

"Yes, let us go, although I have a feeling we will be returning to the mountain in the next few years... Will you attend the wedding, Mithrandir?" asked Thranduil, giving the order for the army to move off with his right hand while flicking his own reins lazily with his left.

"Oh yes, I think I shall attend. The first elf to marry and dwarf... it is not something I would ever wish to miss. And I'm sure Mr Baggins will need a guide to get him safely back to Erebor, as he will be attending too no doubt, so I shall be glad to fulfil that role for him," said the wizard, with a sideways wink at Bilbo, who looked flabbergasted, then confused, then mollified and finally satisfied. Thranduil blinked. The hobbit still amazed him. How one person could go through so many emotions so quickly astounded him. He shook his head again.

"It shall be a moment to change history indeed."

Tauriel watched her people go from the gates of Erebor. The dwarves of Thorin's Company stood around her, watching the elven host depart with tears in their eyes. They would miss Bilbo dearly, as he had grown to be one of their dearest friends over their long journey.

"Fairwell, Master Burglar," whispered Thorin as the elves turned around Dale and marched out of the valley and out of sight. "Now, the real work begins. We must rebuild Erebor and repair the damage the dragon did to our home. Will you stay and help us, Dain? Or must you return to the Iron Hills?" asked Thorin, turning to face his ginger-haired cousin.

"Well, I should be getting back Thorin, ma wife'll hide me for bein' away so long. When I get back, however, I'll send my finest artisans and masons over tay help wi' the rebuildin'," said Dain, stroking his beard.

"Their skill will be much needed. I have sent word to my kin in the Blue Mountains, who will be making haste to Erebor as soon as they can. When they arrive, I want to have the mountain inhabitable and our stored replenished enough to last the winter... Can you send us enough food and drink to endure?"

"Aye, nay bother, cousin. You can have our surplus food and ale, it should be more than enough tay tide you over until the spring. I'm sure you can ask yer elvish lady here to request aid from her kin as well, if you should so need it," said Dain, his eyes sliding up to Tauriel. It was clear he wasn't fully sold on the engagement between the elf and Kilí, but he was willing to bide his time and see how it went.

"Of course, King Thranduil has already promised to seen as many supplies as he can spare to help see us through the winter," said Tauriel, meeting Dain's gaze. The dwarf lord grunted, then turned back to Thorin.

"This is goodbye for now then, cousin. Look after yerself and I'll see you in the spring."

"Goodbye, Dain. Safe journey home," said Thorin, embracing his cousin. Dain then stomped down the steps and joined his throng of dwarves as they began their march east to the Iron Hills.

The next few months were arduous for Thorin and his Company. Each one laboured night and day to lay the foundations for a new gate and bridge, along with securing the hidden door and stockpiling their various resources. Tauriel proved invaluable for this, for her longer legs and acrobatic ability allowed her to traverse the halls with great speed, reporting to locations of whatever stores she could find within the mountain. Not much in the way of food could be found, save for mushrooms that grew around the base of the mountain, but Tauriel discovered huge wardrobes of warm furs that would stand them in good stead come the snows of winter. Thranduil's supplied arrived, and were stocked underground with ice to keep them fresh, and when Dain's stonemasons and artisans arrived, they set to work rebuilding the gate to its former glory. All through the winter months they laboured, save for when the snows were to fierce and all took cover deeper in the halls where the biting wind could not find them. Kilí and Tauriel's love blossomed in this time of scarcity and it warmed even Gloin's suspicious heart to see the young dwarf so happy, for although not all the dwarves fully trusted Tauriel, none could deny that the two made a happy couple. They would often be found helping one another with some task they had been assigned, or else walking through the halls and galleries as Kilí told Tauriel stories of how Erebor was before the coming of the dragon, or Tauriel would be telling Kilí to stories of her kin and their battles with Morgoth and his servants before the elves ever set foot in Middle Earth. Indeed, it was rare to find them apart, for they often fell asleep in one another's arms, gazing out at the stars on the ramparts or after a hard day's work in the upper chambers.

When spring came to the mountain, it brought with it a host of changes and new challenges for the inhabitants of the mountain and those of Dale. While more dwarves came to the mountain at the behest of Dain to assist in the rebuilding of the ancient fortress city, the people of Dale were at a loss. They knew not how to work stone or repair the buildings of Dale, and so Bard went once more to the mountain and asked for the help of the dwarves.

Thorin sent them a third of his masons and stoneworkers, who began to not only work on Dale's buildings and defences, but they also took apprentices and showed them the ways to work stone and build strong walls. Thus did the dwarves insure that the people of Dale would be able to rebuild their lives.

Months dragged on and spring turned to summer, and then to autumn. The great gates of Erebor rose again and the dwarves and men celebrated together at their completion. Dale too had seen much of its former glory resorted. There were repairs made to the walls breached by the orcs and many of the buildings had been made habitable and safe for the coming winter. The bodies of those slain by Smaug had been buried and a memorial had been set up for them and for the dead of Lake-town. It was after this, as autumn was turning to winter and the dwarves and men were settling down to endure the bitter northern cold, that a great host of dwarves arrived in the valley and marched up to the mountain, bearing the banners of the Blue Mountains. At their head was a dwarf woman, garbed in mail and armed with a mattock, with which she pounded on the gates of Erebor.

"Thorin Oakenshield!" she cried, her voice carrying all the way back to Dale, "open this gate and let your people come home!"

At her words, the gates swung open and Kilí and Filí charged out to meet their mother, flinging their arms around her. Dis broke down in a flood of tears and hugged her two sons close. It had been two years since they had departed and all she had heard from them was Thorin's raven, telling her that the mountain had been reclaimed and that Filí and Kilí were fine. She had assembled all of the folk of Erebor and set out at once, heading straight for the mountain. Her passage through Mirkwood, which she had expected to be fraught with peril, had been swift and easy, due to the surprising hospitality of the elves, who had sung songs and dances through the trees as they guided the dwarves towards the mountain. King Thranduil had even refilled their supplies and given them extra to take with them to Erebor.

"Give my good will to King Thorin, and to his heirs," he had said, which had puzzled Dis even more. Now, she was determined to find what had caused this sudden friendship between elf and dwarf. First, however, she needed to get her people settled in. The Company, including Thorin and Tauriel, set to work guiding the new comers through Erebor to the halls and chambers that had been made ready for them. Rumour spread quickly of the she-elf that was living in the mountain, and Dis added it to the many things she wanted to ask Thorin when she finally cornered him. So far, he had eluded her grasp, but it was only a matter of time...

Once all of the dwarves had been settled, Thorin knew he had to face Dis. He sent Filí and Kilí to find her, then seated himself on the throne with Balin at his side. Kilí and Filí returned soon, Dis with them.

"So, brother, you have reclaimed the mountain," she began, her hands on her hips and her beard rippling. "And I hear from all those who have been in the mountain for some time, that it was quite the feat... so much so that you nearly died in the attempt, as did my sons!" Her anger was palpable and Thorin inadvertently winced. "You promised me they would not come to any serious harm! You promised me, Thorin, son of Thrain, that they would be alright! They nearly died, according to some, on multiple occasions, trailing through Goblin Town and Mirkwood, then throwing them into battle against Azog the Defiler! How dare you!" she stormed up the dais and towered about him, then relented. The energy seemed to flow out of her and she stepped back down. "Thank you," she whispered, "for keeping them safe."

"It wasn't just me, all of the company looked after Kilí and Filí and without Tauriel, I, along with both Kilí and Filí, would be dead," replied Thorin, his hand on his heart.

"Tauriel?" Dis said, her voice sharp. Thorin winced and Kilí looked nervous. Balin and Filí looked elsewhere. "Who is Tauriel? Is this the elf woman I have heard of? Who walks these halls as if born to them?"

"Yes, mother, that is Tauriel," said Kilí, his eyes downcast. It was one thing to face up to you uncle, it was another to face up to your mother.

"Where is this elf?" asked Dis, her eyes flitting around the dwarf men in the chamber. Something wasn't right here...

"I am here, Lady Dis," said a melodic voice from the end of the throne room. Tauriel strode slowly and carefully up to the throne, stopping just behind Filí and Kilí. She bowed her head to Thorin, then to Dis. "It is a pleasure to meet you, I have heard many thing about you."

"Oh have you now, elf?" asked Dis, her voice level and even, "Then you must be close with my sons and brother. I assume that is why you are resident in these halls?"

"No mother, well yes, but not quite," said Filí, trying to explain, but quailing under his mother's raised eyebrow. "You see, Tauriel is err..."

"Tauriel and I are engaged to be married," said Kilí, standing up straighter and looking his mother straight in the eye. Balin let out a low whistle and Thorin looked at his adviser with a look of apprehension.

Dis looked slowly between her two sons and Tauriel, her eyes bulging. Her lips twitched and her beard quivered. "You... want to marry... and elf?" she said the last part with disbelief. Kilí nodded his head fervently. "Why? She's so tall, and so thin, and she doesn't have any facial hair at all!" protested Dis, gesturing at Tauriel, who to her credit took all of this without comment of reaction.

"Mother, please, listen to me. Tauriel... Tauriel makes me feel alive. Whenever I am around her, my heart soars and I cannot help but grin, no matter where I am or what I am doing. She is everything I could ask for in a woman, and yes, she is tall, and thin and smooth cheeked, but I love her all the same for it, and I know that she loves me for who I am too. Uncle Thorin has accepted us, as has King Thranduil and even Lord Dain of the Iron Hills. I ask you now," said Kilí, moving back and taking Tauriel's hand in his own, "to accept our love and give us your blessing."

Dis turned to Thorin and looked at him with disbelief, then to Balin and finally to Filí, who was standing next to his brother with a tense look on his face. A whirlwind of emotions was shooting through Dis. On the one hand, she could see the honesty in Kilí's speech. He did indeed love the elf and she loved him back, and that fact that he had found someone who loved him made her heart swell, but she was an elf! A Mirkwood elf! How would their relationship even work? She could not see how two people from to totally different races could come together to form a lasting bond. Perhaps, in that moment, Dis would have refused to give her blessing to Kilí and Tauriel, had not the she-elf taken the initiative from her. Tauriel walked forwards, knelt in front of Dis so that their eyes were level, and drew out the oathstone that Kilí had given her from her jerkin.

"You gave this to remind Kilí of his promise, and he gave it to me to remind me of his promise, so now I return it to you so that you may remember my promise. I will never stop loving him, not even when his hair turns grey and the long nights close in, my love will never wane. It is as constant as the stars and I promise you that the stars of my love will shine upon him forever."

And with that, Tauriel took Dis' hand, gave her the stone, kissed it lightly, then stood and withdrew to stand next to Kilí.

Dis stared at the stone in her hand for a long time, and when she looked up, she had tears in her eyes. "Bless you both, may your love be stronger than any stone that can be found under the earth." She cried openly then and ran forward to embrace her two sons again, dragging Tauriel into the rough and whiskery hug.

The wedding was held in the summer of the following year, which allowed for certain special guests, such as Bilbo Baggins and Elrond of Rivendell, to travel to the mountain. Dain and his family attended, as did all of the Company, Gandalf, Beorn, Thranduil, Bard and his family, and Legolas, who returned from the wilderness to witness the event. It was a grand affair, for Dis insisted on planning every detail and spared no expense. Great drapes of white and gold were hung from the ceiling of ever hall in Erebor and the pennants that blew in the wind bore the raven sigil of Thror nesting between the two trees of the Eldar. Every guest received a gift, whether it be a small ring, or a circlet or some other item of jewellery, nobody was left out. The great hall was packed full of dwarves, elves and men, for all could attend the wedding; Tauriel and Kilí had been adamant that everyone should see the joining of their two races as one.

The seating did, however, get rather muddled with Bofur, Bifur and Bombur directing people. In the end, everyone simply found a seat and sat down, laughing, taking and mingling among each other as they waited for the wedding to start. Legolas found himself sitting next to a young, ginger-haired dwarf who had just started to grow his beard. He looked across and saw that Gloin was sitting next to the child, and assumed then that this was his son. Legolas sent an awkward glace at Gloin before setting his eyes forward to look at Tauriel and his father.

Tauriel was adorned in a forest green dress made of fine silk embroidered with gold and silver. Her hair was held back by a circlet of mithril and diamonds and in her hand was a bouquet of mountain flowers. Kilí was bedecked in royal splendour, wearing fine robes of blue and black over mithril mail. His beard had grown significantly, and he had braided it with golden beads for the occasion. On his head, a crown of gold and onyx rested. Both of them wore matching smiles as the looked out across the congregation. Dis, who was vouching for Kilí, wore a flowing dress of midnight blue studded with sapphires and interwoven with mithril strands. Her beard had been washed, combed and plaited with golden beads to match her son and she beam a broad smile as tears spilled happily from her eyes. On her head rested a diadem of gold and sapphire. Thranduil was dressed all in white and silver, his robes flowing like water. The White Gem Diadem was on his brow and his smile was small, discreet and full of happiness. Legolas hadn't seen his father smile like that for a long time, and it warmed his heart to see it.

Finally, the great trumpets of Erebor sounded, and all the assembled men, elves and dwarves stood for the entrance of Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thrór, King Under the Mountain. Thorin looked regal and powerful in his kingly regalia. Burnished golden mail and rich robes of blue cloth of the finest cut under a huge fur cape. On his head, the crown of his ancestors, but he wore it better than all that came before him. To legolas's left, the dwarfling mutter and jumped.

"Could have picked a better spot," he grumbled. Legolas tried to resist, he really did, but couldn't help himself.

"Shall I describe it to you," he whispered to the dwarf child, "or would you like me to find you a box?"

Thorin took to the dais and turned around.

"You are all gathered here today to witness the greatest moment in the history of elves and dwarves. Today, we raise our voices in praise of these two people, Tauriel of Mirkwood and Kilí of Erebor, for they have set aside ages of past enmity and found love with each other. Who can vouch for the heart of Kilí, son of Dis?" asked Thorin.

Dis stepped forward. "I, Dis, mother of Kilí and Filí, vouch for his heart, and say that it is true. He loves no other and will be faithful and loyal to Tauriel until the end of his days, upon my beard and his own, I swear this." There was a muttering of approval amongst the dwarves.

"Who can vouch for the heart of Tauriel, elf of Mirkwood?" asked Thorin.

"I, Thranduil, King of the elves of Mirkwood, vouch for her heart, and say that it is true. She loves no other, and will be faithful and loyal to Kilí until the end of her days, upon my honour and her own, I swear this." There was whispering among the elves at this.

"Then, unless any here know of a reason why I should stay my judgement, I shall pronounce these two wed. Speak now, if you should find a fault in these proceedings."

An agonising, tense silence followed. Ten heartbeats passed, then Thorin grinned. "I pronounce you wed! Let all rejoice!"

There was a massive cheer as the hall erupted in noise. Dwarves bellowed and elves sang while men hooted and hollered. The up on the dais, Thorin embraced Dis and Thranduil smiled and Kilí jumped into the arms of Tauriel, who swung him around and kissed him full force on the mouth. The celebrations would continue all though the day and into the night, with feasting and drinking aplenty. From that point on, elves and dwarves would be united together through the union of Kilí and Tauriel. And they lived happily ever after, and indeed it was ever after, for when Gimli and Legolas took ship across the sea, they carried with them Kilí and Tauriel, and their three children.

**A/N: ****Never again will I procrastinate on Christmas Eve when I should be writing. Merry Christmas. This was finished at ten past midnight on Christmas Day so I apologise for any spelling errors; I was very tired!**

**Caledor out!**


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